


they can't take that away from me

by russiasnataliaa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Bucky Barnes Feels, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Happy Ending, Natasha Romanov Feels, Night Terrors, Parent Nick Fury, Protective Bucky Barnes, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24189907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russiasnataliaa/pseuds/russiasnataliaa
Summary: "It all feels so different, yet the same at once. It’s a nice feeling, James thinks. It feels like a new chapter, or perhaps a whole new book. Natasha feels the same way, but she’s too busy thinking of all the different ways she can call herself ‘Mrs. Barnes’ in the middle of conversation."simply put, a series of snapshots of james and natasha's relationship throughout the years.inspired by jose james' "they can't take that away from me".
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	they can't take that away from me

_The way you wear your hat._

NOVEMBER 16TH 2014

It’s about 30 degrees outside — at least that’s what the weather guy had said — but it feels more like a negative seven and all James wants is his warm bed with his arms wrapped around his amazing girlfriend and her kitten that he’s grown fond of.

Not that he’ll ever tell her that.

In addition to the brisk weather, it’s snowing, which, in all honesty, shouldn’t be bothering him as much as it is seeing that he’s spent a _lot_ of his time as the Winter Soldier in Russia. But it is, and he’s probably frowning way too hard and _why does she_ insist _on getting hot chocolate from the cafe when there’s some at home?_

<“Stop pouting.”> He doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s smirking, he can _hear_ it in her voice. It takes him a moment to say anything back because a shiver goes through his body when the wind picks up a little. When it dies down, he manages to turn his head and look down at her.

“Not pouting — ”

“So what’re you doing with your face?” she raises an eyebrow. Her nose and cheeks are tinted a deep, rosey pink, so she must be cold, too. _She’s just better at hiding it than me._ One of her gloved hands is balled up in a fist — the other one being held by him — she probably can't feel her ears and her scarf looks like it’s on the verge of choking her, but she’s smiling still. On top of that, the hat she’s wearing is slowly but surely slipping down her forehead. It’s really his, which more than explains why it doesn’t fit her that well, but he decided not to say anything to her when they’d left the house, knew she’d want to keep on whether it fit or not, simply because it’s his. _Why does she even buy clothes?_ The wind blew again, this time making the hat sit over her eyebrows. She was tilting her head up more and more as time passed so she could see, not wanting to remove her hand from her pocket or from his hand to pull it back up. She looked ridiculous. Still adorable, but ridiculous.

“What are _you_ doing with your face?” Now it’s his turn to smirk as he places a hand in front of her to stop walking and pulls her gently to the side by her elbow so they won’t be in the way of passersby.

“James, we — oh,” she chuckles when he uses his metal hand — she doesn’t seem like she wants to let go of his other hand — to pull the hat up comfortably, brushing a couple locks of hair out her face and off her lip gloss.

“That better?”

“Mmm, much,” she smiles, the red tint on her cheeks becoming even more visible now that they’ve stopped and he stands in front of her. “Thank you.” He bends down a little to meet her in a soft _you're welcome_ kiss, and they’re back on their way. There’s no doubt that this is _not_ his type of weather, but with Natasha at his side, he supposes it’s not so bad.

_The way you sip your tea._

MARCH 8TH 2015

“Want anything from the kitchen?” James asks as he gently removes Natasha’s feet from his lap and stands from his spot on the couch. They’d been helping each other do paperwork for hours now and the day would soon be over. Natasha, who’d also been filling out a briefing, looked up from her laptop.

“Tea, please,” she smiles, closing the computer and deciding on taking a break. Looking out the window, she realizes they really _had_ been here all day — not that winter days were that long, but still. She sighs softly, resting her head back on the arm rest and letting her mind wander away from work for a little bit. She loves her job, they both do, but the paperwork is a pain in the rear.

“Chamomile?” he calls from the kitchen, though he already knows the answer.

“Yes, please.”

“D’you want sugar or…”

“Yeah, sugar’s good.” She lifts the blanket off of her and swings her legs over the edge of the couch, heading for the kitchen. It’s almost obvious they haven’t spoken much today — their voices are raspy as if they just woke up, and they look like it, too. James has on a white t-shirt and pair of plaid pajama pants. He didn’t shave this morning, so yesterday's stubble is dusting his neck and face and his hair is pulled back into a messy bun. Natasha doesn’t look much different than him, clad in a blue, fitted long sleeve shirt, a pair of pajama shorts and ankle socks. Her hair is flowing just past her shoulders in soft, red waves with some strands tucked behind her ear. She pads quietly to the counter where he’s waiting for the kettle to go off and leans her head on his shoulder as he pulls her in by her waist. They have days like this — mostly when work has tired them out — where they only engage in small talk, but the displays of affection substitute for the conversations they usually have. From the hugs and brushes of feet to the slow tongue kisses and shared looks, it all makes up for the things they haven’t said that day.

A few minutes later, the kettle starts to whistle and James moves to prepare her tea and his coffee. When he’s added sugar to her drink, he goes into the glass cookie jar on the kitchen island and places four mini cookies — yes, _she_ baked, thank you very much — on a plate she didn’t notice until now.

“Cavities are a serious thing, y’know,” she quietly teases when he hands her mug of tea to her. He rolls his eyes and shoves her playfully, going back for the coffee and cookies before sitting back down with her in the living room.

After they’ve settled back in their spots, he looks at her every few seconds with warth spreading over his chest. With every small sip of tea she takes, her eyes start to droop more and more and James can’t help but think that the sight of her fighting sleep is just adorable. He tries hiding a smirk behind his mug when her eyes close for a little too long and she catches herself, causing her to jump slightly in place.

<“Shut up.”> she mumbles.

He tries to look offended, but fails when a smile spreads across his face instead. “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you were _thinking_ something — ”

He shakes his head with a smile on his face. “You can’t _hear_ thoughts, Natalia.” He chuckles when she rolls her eyes and kicks him lightly with her foot.

_The memory of all that._

_No, no they can’t take that away from me._   
  


DECEMBER 23RD 2015

“Just relax, Tash.” Natasha only huffed harder — someone might’ve thought she was out of breath — when another couple skated past them with ease, laughing at some stupid joke one of them said. She looked back down at her feet — which were _quite_ crooked at the moment — and tried to regain her balance, which resulted in her having to latch on to the railing yet _again_.

“Easier said than done, _Buck_ .” She’s getting frustrated at this point only because she isn't used to _not_ excelling. All her life she’d been praised for how good she was at everything. Aim, speed, strength, seduction, fighting — the list goes on. Yet, here she is, holding on to her boyfriend and the stupid railing to help her stay steady on the stupid ice. Noticing that she was beating herself up over something so simple, James tugs her to the middle of the rink.

She freezes, her grip on the railing only getting stronger. “James…”

“Natalia?”

“No.” She takes a deep breath and then exhales, shaking her head slowly.

“No?” he repeats.

“Yes, _no_. I’m not gonna let you take me out there so I can make a fool of myself again.” Her cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red as she almost mumbles the last part.

_Natasha Romanoff? Embarrassed? Never thought I’d see the day._

“You won’t fall, just trust me on this,” he throws her his signature smile, the one she can’t resist. It seems like it works when she straightens her back from the little hunch she was in. Until she turns around.

“The last time you said that exact sentence, I ended up with a fractured knee — ” James winces when he realizes where the conversation is heading. “ — a bruised forearm and bed rest for seven weeks. Seven, James. So, please, excuse me for being a little tentative.”

“Okay, in my defense? You felt a lot more heavy from that height than I anticipated and I was tired. _And_ I had a _stab_ wound.” She rolls her eyes. “Can’t say those weren’t the best seven weeks of your life, though, right?” he winks.

“Whatever.” She tries to straighten out her right foot but moves it too quickly, causing her to panic for a split second and latch on to the railing completely.

“Okay, let’s make a deal.”

“I don’t wanna make a — ”

“ _Let’s make a deal_ . If you leave the ice rink tonight knowing how to skate, you let me do whatever I want to you when we get home.” She smiles and her eyes darken just a little. _Oh,_ now _her interests are piqued._

“And if I don’t?” she purrs. He shakes his head amusedly as he tries to think of something.

“If you leave without knowing how to skate, I’ll do the dishes, laundry and take out the garbage for a month.” She laughs at his proposition because really, how could she say no? She sighs as she sticks out her gloved hand — wet from the ice and snow — for him to shake.

“Sounds as if I win either way, so you’re on.” He chuckles as he eases her off the beam, and holds both her hands as he skates in front of her. By the time they leave, Natasha’s learned to skate — barely — and they arrive home with James calling the shots for the rest of the night.

_The way your smile just beams._

JULY 5TH 2016

“Sure you should go that far? Wouldn’t want the current to sweep you away, especially since the water’s basically up to your neck already and we _just_ got in — ”

“Oh, _very_ funny, James.” He smiles at her and she can’t help but smile back and _God, she’s so beautiful._ Her skin is glowing in the orange light of the setting sun, her solid red bikini contrasting from her ivory skin just _perfectly_ and her hair is getting darker and coming up into slightly tighter waves from the water. 

“Thank you — ” is what she tells him when he pulls her close to him. “ — for today. I had fun.” And he can tell. She had a smile on her face from the time they left the house up until now as the day was ending. They’d done a lot today — walking barefoot on the boardwalk and getting hot dogs and fries, pushing each other on the playground swings and getting ice cream cones and it just felt amazing to do things like this together. James always makes an effort to give her an experience of what his childhood was like since she never had one of her own. Him and Steve used to come to Far Rockaway in the summer and make countless memories, and reliving all those activities with his girlfriend and knowing that she enjoyed it felt like an accomplishment.

“No need to thank me.” He kisses her forehead as she looks out to the horizon. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

Once the sun has fully set and Natasha starts to shiver, they get out, opting to pack up and walk back to their car. They drive around for a while, having enough of the beach but not quite ready to go home. They stop out to get Chinese and dine in, talking and sharing stories with each other, and whenever she laughs at one of his corny jokes, he commits that image to his memory because for him, seeing her smile is the best part of any day.  
  


_The way you sing off key._

SEPTEMBER 10TH 2017

James pulls up in front of his and Natasha’s apartment building a little after six, the skyline of Manhattan outlining nicely against the sky in the distance, the sun still shining off to the west. After parking, he heads to the trunk to take out the multiple bags of groceries there, lifting them out with more ease than the next man would, and shuts the door, locking the car behind him as he climbs the few steps to the front door.

Usually, it would be him _and_ Natasha doing the shopping together — they relish in the car rides together, him reaching for items on the top shelf or sneaking a few extra snacks in the cart, and her placing her feet on the dashboard and their light conversations — but Morgan, who happened to be spending the weekend with them by request, had been napping peacefully on the couch, so, naturally, Natasha, who was already half asleep, had been the one to stay with her.

As James reaches the door to their apartment, he can hear the sound of two people singing coming from inside, and that alone brings a soft smile to his face. The first voice is high and pitchy, giggles coming from them after every few words, and right away James knows it’s Morgan. The second voice obviously belongs to none other than Natasha, raspier and also laughing as she tries to hit all the notes in the song. When he unlocks the door, the music gets louder and he’s not the least bit surprised at what’s playing.

“ — it’s the party talking or the chocolate fondue!” Morgan sings, the joy in her voice as clear as day.

“But with you!” Natasha continues, and Morgan is giggling again. They’re singing ‘Love Is An Open Door’ from Frozen.

Yeah, Morgan’s recently taken a liking (obsession) for Frozen.

James takes off his shoes by the foyer and walks into the kitchen as Natasha tries to hit a note. Keyword _tries_ , because her voice ends up cracking, bringing another round of laughter from Morgan. It’s only as he’s resting the bags down by the kitchen island when he hears Natasha say a soft, “Look who’s here.”

“Unca Buck!” Morgan pauses her little performance to run to him. He bends down as she gets closer, catching her and lifting her high in the air when they make contact, eliciting a bubbly laugh from her.

“Hey, squirt,” he laughs, his already good mood getting infinitely better at the girl’s presence. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes, a lot. Me an’ Aunty Nat were singin’! And she was being Anna ‘cause they’re both pretty and have red hair, an’ I was bein’ Kristoff since _you_ weren’t here, an’ so — ” As Morgan starts rambling on about all the activities she did after nap, Natasha walks over after pausing the music. She’s all smiles as she comes to greet him with a kiss, slightly out of breath from singing just a few moments ago.

“Sorry I couldn’t join you,” she says, giving a look of apology and a small pout when she notices all the grocery bags around them after dropping down from her tiptoes.

James shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t stress it,” he replies. “‘Sides, I didn’t have _you_ there to tell me to get more fruits rather than snacks.”

“If it were up to you, you’d just buy junk food all the time,” she laughs, and James makes a face.

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. Ain’t that right, Morgan?”

“Yes! Snacks forever!” Natasha sighs dramatically into his shoulder and shakes her head, mumbling something about how he’s ‘such a bad influence’ and he chuckles.

“Also, I’m, like, _ninety_ percent sure the whole of Downtown Brooklyn heard you guys’ duet,” James smirks, lowering Morgan onto her feet at her request to go play with the toys she brought from home. “Gotta say, ‘Tasha, you were just a _little_ pitchy on that last part.” He leans back against the kitchen island, crossing his ankles and his arms over his chest as Natasha’s jaw drops in mock offense.

“Me? Pitchy?” she repeats, and he nods his head in affirmation. “Barnes, I’ll have you know that Natasha Romanoff doesn’t _get_ pitchy — ”

James snorts. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re Natalia Romanova, then.” He tilts his head head mockingly. “‘Cause you definitely were pitchy.”

“As if you could do any — ”

“Better?” he interjects. “I sure can.”

“Is that a challenge?” Natasha asks, approaching him until they’re just a few inches apart, a wicked smile unfurling on James’ face as she looks up at him through her lashes.

“It most certainly is.”

“Mmm, my singing’ll run _circles_ around whatever you try to compete with.”

“Please, doll, by all means,” he gestures to the living room behind her. “Show me how it’s done.”

_The way we danced ‘till three._

  
  


JUNE 11TH 2017

For the past three weeks, James and Natasha hadn’t gotten a single night terror which, as small of an accomplishment as it may seem to someone else, is a huge deal for them. They’d relished in the fact that they were waking up all those mornings from uninterrupted nights of sleep, that they could say that ‘ _yes, I slept well_ ’ and ‘ _no, my past didn’t haunt my dreams last night_ ’. And as he and Natasha went to bed that night, for one foolish moment, James thought that maybe the terrors had finally started to go away. But, unsurprisingly, their peace was short lived and Natasha had been on the receiving end of the Universe’s questionable ways.

He wakes up when he feels her jerk randomly, almost as if she were reaching out for something, but it all happens so quickly that he brushes it off as a muscle spasm. He’d dozes off a few minutes after, thinking — more like hoping — that maybe she’s fine, but as he starts to fall deeper into sleep, everything goes downhill. She’s starting to squirm under him, so he moves his arm off of her and sits up, not wanting her to feel trapped by whoever or whatever she’s fighting in her dream. He contemplates on whether or not he should wake her or wait it out, prays that this is the type dream that’ll resolve itself so he won't have to see the broken look in her eyes when she thinks she’s disturbed his sleep, but by the way she’s writhing now, face contorted with pure agony and starting to whimper, the former seems like the better option.

Just as he’s about to do so, she goes rigid and panic sets into him immediately. _What happened? Why isn’t she moving? Is she_ —

She screams. Loud and high and _raw_ and God, he can only imagine what she could be dreaming about to cause her so much suffering. It’s not the first time she’s had a terror as bad as this, where she ends up screaming and flailing in an attempt to get away from whatever it is that’s provoking her, but it doesn’t mean that James doesn’t still get seriously worried for her.

“Tasha?” He shakes her shoulder gently, not wanting to upset her any further but also not wanting her to suffer any longer. “Natasha, c’mon.” Sweat is starting to collect on her forehead and neck and her breathing is heavy and all James can think about is how he wishes he could take this pain away.

<“Natasha, please. It’s me James, you gotta wake up for me.”> he says. Moments later, her eyes start to flutter open but it takes a while, like she’s fighting to wake up. Suddenly, she gasps and sits up, face flushed and head turning wildly as she takes in her surroundings.

“J–James?” she chokes out, and he reaches for the lamp on his bedside table and turns it on so she can see him.

“Hey, I’m right here, you’re okay.” She’s still looking around the room, probably to make sure there’s no threat. He wants to hug her, but knows better, gives her a moment to regain her senses because there’s a chance she could lash out at him. After a few seconds, she makes eye contact with him and his heart breaks because with the way her eyes are frantically skimming over his body shining with unwanted tears and her bottom lip trembling, he knows she dreamt about him.

“C’mere,” he gestures for her with his arms open and she takes the invitation immediately. It’s only when she rests her head on his chest and hears his heartbeat, realizes that _he’s okay_ , that her front falls and she’s crying unceasingly, her gasps for air and his _shh_ ’s being the only sounds in the room. “Wherever you were, you’re not there anymore, doll.” He brushes her hair away from her face and wipes the sweat off her forehead, pressing a few kisses to the crown of her head. “You’re at home, in Brooklyn, with James.” He’s using their grounding technique — stating her surroundings and people she’s with so she knows whatever she felt _was_ just a dream. She nods faintly and holds him tighter.

“They took you again,” she says once her breathing calms down and she can trust her voice not to break again. James doesn’t need her to elaborate on who ‘they’ is because she’s been through this too many times for him to not. He has her lean off him for a second, takes one of her hands and pulls it up to the left side of his chest.

“I’m okay,” he nods reassuringly, pulling her back against him.

“You’re okay,” she quietly repeats. They sit there for a while with him slowly rocking her side to side as she sniffles and takes occasional deep breaths. It’s only been about ten minutes when he realizes that she’s gotten deathly quiet. Her breathing hasn’t evened out so he knows she’s still awake — there’s no way she’s going back to sleep anytime soon. Then an idea comes to him. He coaxes her to get up again, pulls her to the other side of the room and out the door until they’re headed for the stairs and finally standing in the middle of the living room.

“Wait, James — ” Panic settles in her body when he leaves her alone for a second and walks to the other side of the room.

“I’m right here, see?” She frowns in confusion when he goes over to the radio and turns it to a specific channel. Moments later, a slow song is playing and he walks back over to her with a small smile on his face. He takes her hand in one hand and rests his other hand on her waist as he begins to lead her into a slow dance. Her head soon finds its way back on his chest — right over his heart. This is one thing he _knows_ will always help in calming her down, in bringing her out of the darkest parts of her mind and thoughts. They dance and dance with James giving her the occasional twirl, making her giggle and him smiling at the reactions he’s bringing out of her.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a while when they're barely moving, just small slow steps from one side to the next.

“I know. Thank you.” It’s a quarter-past three when they get back to their room, and James is proud to say that Natasha falls asleep — and stays asleep — almost as soon as her head hits the pillow.

  
  


_The way you changed my life._

_No, no they can’t take that away from me._

  
  


AUGUST 11TH 2018

“The Bride and Groom have a few words to share.”

 _The Bride and Groom_ — _That’s us._

James feels like everything is moving in slow motion now. He notices everything around him, too. The many details and embellishments on Natasha’s dress. How a few strands of her hair are a shade lighter than the rest when he looks closely. Her smile — _God_ , her smile is beautiful. The way her skin is glowing in the last lights of day. Fury — who’d walked her down the aisle — in the front row, is _actually_ smiling. He sees Yelena, Pepper, Okoye, Maria, Wanda and Carol behind her, pure happiness and encouragement on their faces as Natasha gets ready to say her vows.

She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, excitement and nervousness all merging as one and rushing through her body like adrenaline. “James Buchanan Barnes, how utterly charmed am I to call you mine?” she starts. “Your never ending love and trust makes me a better person, each and every day. You know me better than anyone else, and honestly, better than I know myself. You were the one that taught me how to love all those years ago when I didn’t know any better. Because of you, I have a confidence in myself that I didn’t have before and in your arms and by your side, I know I’m safe.” She looks down for a brief moment, tears welling in her eyes, and he chuckles as he brushes the back of her hand with his hand in encouragement.

“Today, I vow to be with you through it all — for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, ‘till death do us part and everything in between. I promise to stick by your side even when you make very _questionable_ decisions,” she continues, his smile shining brightly in front of her. “ From here on out, I promise you that you’ll never have to face the world alone. I love you.” As she finishes, various _aww_ ’s and one or two sniffles can be heard throughout the congregation and she chuckles at that. When she looks back up she can see his eyes red with unshed tears.

“Who’s the sap now?” he says quietly and she laughs softly.

Now it’s his turn. _It’s my turn._ Natasha closes her eyes for a second, wanting to remember this moment forever. But she doesn’t want to just remember it as ‘her wedding day’, no. She wants to be able to remember details that no photograph or video can capture. The light blush on James’ face from her saying her vows a few moments ago. The breeze from the beach blowing on his just so. Steve, Sam, Tony, Clint, Bruce and Thor are behind him, very clearly ecstatic for the both of them if the huge grins on their faces are any indication. Then, she notices Clint — of course it’s Clint — whisper to Tony a quick ‘I told you she’d cry. You owe me twenty.’ _Idiots. They really bet on me crying today._ A moment later, James turns around to Steve, her hands still in his, before smiling. 

“Man, how the hell am I beating that?” he jokes, and Steve and everyone else bursts out into laughter before he focuses his attention back on her. “Originally, I’d been set on just speaking from my heart rather than memorizing it. But I think we both know we’d all be here for a while. So you can all thank Sam for talking me out of that idea.” She shakes her head playfully and chuckles.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova, words can’t explain how blessed I am to be standing beside you today. I may have taught you how to love, but _you_ were the one that made me feel human again. You bring light to my darkest days, and support me like no other when I’m ready to throw in the towel. We’ve reached a certain level of understanding that can only be shared when two people love each other truly, and that understanding only grows more and more with each passing day. I love you with everything in me with a passion that can’t be expressed in words, but in kisses, shared looks and years of adventure with you.” As they’re still making eye contact, the tears Natasha had so desperately tried to keep at bay are falling down her cheeks now and has to bite her lip to prevent a whimper from escaping her mouth.

“Today, I vow to be your friend and partner, both on the field and off, every step of the way. Through thick and thin, the good and bad, sickness and health –– I’ll be by your side through any and everything. No matter what thoughts are going on in that pretty little head of yours or whatever bad feelings you get in your heart, know that I will always love you. I promise to be there day or night, to put you first and respect you… even when you get really sassy and irritated.” She smirks at the last part and soft laughter sounds throughout the congregation again. “You are my one and only today, tomorrow and everyday after that. And I know that forever with you won’t be enough, but from this day forward, I vow to make the most of every moment. I love you.” Damn.

“You win,” she mumbles through tears and he’s laughing again. They go on to exchange rings and ring vows, and can hardly wait for the wedding officiant to say the line they’ve been waiting for.

“James and Natasha, you have expressed your love to one another through the commitment and promises you have just made. It is with these in mind that I now pronounce you husband and wife. You have kissed a thousand times, maybe more.”

“Definitely more,” Tony whispers and Sam tries to hold back a laugh.

“But today the feeling is new,” the officiant continues. “No longer simply partners and best friends, you have become husband and wife. Today your kiss is a promise. You may kiss the bride.” _Damn, right he can._ The now newlyweds practically crash lips when they make contact, various whoops and applaud sounding throughout the beach. It all feels so different, yet the same at once. It’s a nice feeling, James thinks. It feels like a new chapter, or perhaps a whole new book. Natasha feels the same way, but she’s too busy thinking of all the different ways she can call herself ‘Mrs. Barnes’ in the middle of conversation.

_No they can’t take that away from me._

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> i'm trying to update more often and i'm getting better at it, just bear with me (i have two more fics in the works). and as always, *please* leave comments and kudos, they mean so much to me! xx


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